Page 16 of Sweet Pucking Revenge (2-Hour Quickies #6)

Maggie

The Showdown

At six PM, I circle Kyle's apartment one final time, checking every detail.

The dining room table looks incredible with what I brought and the best I found in his kitchen—fresh flowers, champagne chilling.

The tripod is perfectly positioned to capture everything from the front door through to the dining area. Nothing can go wrong tonight.

My phone buzzes.

Grayson : We’re still at O’Mailley’s. He's three shots in so far. Ordering another round. He won't be leaving anytime soon. You were right, he’d never say no to free drinks with his captain.

Me : Good. Key's in the rock. Everything's ready.

After one final adjustment to the camera angle, I check my watch. 6:43. Any minute now.

At precisely 6:45, the door opens. Melody floats in, a vision in platinum blonde curls and that iconic white halter dress—the same one Marilyn wore over the subway grate, only this one's from some fast-fashion website.

Her red lipstick would make Marilyn proud, though, and she's definitely got the wiggle walk down. Her eyes widen when she sees me.

"Oh! I didn't expect—"

"Don't worry," I say smoothly, Grayson’s professional camera hanging around my neck. "Kyle hired me to photograph everything. He wants to capture every special moment tonight."

Her face lights up. "That's so Kyle! Like, always thinking of everything!"

I guide her to the table, pouring champagne into one of the few decent glasses Kyle has, pretending it’s a Swarovski flute. Not that Marilyn slash Melody would know. "He specifically requested you sit here." I pull out the chair closest to the head of the table. "Perfect view of the fountains."

“Fountains?”

“Well, you can imagine them, right? To make this special.”

"Abso-fuckin-lutely! The ring catches the light beautifully here," she says, extending her hand to admire the massive Tiffany diamond. "I still can't believe it. When the salesman said to pick any ring..." She sighs dreamily. "Kyle's just full of surprises lately."

"Speaking of surprises," I say carefully, "His mother will be here any minute," I mention casually. "Remember what Kyle said—she prefers Lenora to Ma'am."

"Oh yes, he said it was important." She sips her champagne. "I've been so nervous about meeting—"

The door opens exactly at 7:00 PM. Lenora enters like she owns the place—which, technically, she does own the team Kyle plays for. Her designer cocktail dress glints like it knows it doesn't belong in a room with polyester.

"Lenora," I say smoothly, "meet Melody. Melody, this is Lenora."

The women embrace like old friends.

"I've heard so much about you," they say simultaneously, then laugh.

"Kyle talks about you constantly," Melody offers.

"Does he now?" Lenora's smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. "All good things, I hope."

"Only the best," Melody assures her. "Though he never mentioned how young you look!"

Lenora preens. "Aren't you sweet? And he never mentioned how much you look like Marilyn."

“Thank you!”

I pour more champagne, watching them dance around each other's identities. "Shall we take some photos while we wait? Kyle wants to document everything."

"Of course," Lenora says, smoothing her suit. "Family photos are so important."

"They really are," Melody agrees eagerly. "Especially on nights like this."

At 7:15, Dorian makes his grand entrance, a whirlwind of silk scarf and designer cologne. "Ladies! The artist has arrived!"

"And you are...?" Lenora asks.

"Darling, I'm everyone and everything." He drops his massive makeup case with a flourish. "Kyle's personal stylist, makeup artist, and—as I like to say—his fairy godfather. Though tonight, I'm here to make sure you gorgeous creatures look absolutely perfect for these photos."

"Kyle uses a makeup artist?" Melody asks.

"Oh honey," Dorian pulls out his brushes, "you didn't think that camera-ready glow was au naturel?

My art is subtle. Like good plastic surgery or a push-up bra—everyone sees the results, but no one knows why.

" He winks at Lenora. "Not that you'd know anything about that, dear. Your work is flawless."

Lenora touches her face self-consciously. "I don't know what you mean."

"And that's exactly how we want it!" He starts powdering Melody's nose. "Now, Kyle's running a bit late—practice, you know how it is—but he wants everything perfect when he arrives."

"That's our Kyle," Melody sighs. "Always working so hard."

"Indeed," Lenora agrees. "The team demands so much of him."

"The team?" Melody looks confused.

"Let's get some photos," I interrupt quickly. "Kyle specifically requested shots of his loved ones together."

I position them by the window. "Perfect. Now, lean in close—Kyle wants to show how well his family and his fiancée get along."

Both women beam at the camera, each clearly thinking she's the fiancée.

"These will be treasured forever," Lenora says.

"Absolutely," Melody agrees. "Such a special evening."

"Kyle will be so pleased to see you both getting along," I say, snapping away. "He was worried about tonight."

"Worried?" they ask in unison.

"Oh, you know Kyle," Dorian interjects, dabbing powder on Lenora's forehead. "He wants everything just right when he makes big announcements."

"Announcements?" Melody clutches her champagne.

"Did he say something to you?" Lenora leans forward.

"Not my place to spoil surprises," Dorian sing-songs. "Now, chin up, darling. The camera loves you both."

I capture their nervous anticipation, the way they keep stealing glances at each other.

"Kyle says you're very important to him," Melody ventures.

"Naturally," Lenora replies. "And you... everything he does for you, how he’s always there for you when… you know..."

"More champagne?" I offer, noting their glasses are empty.

"Please," they chorus.

Dorian flits between them, adjusting hair, touching up lipstick. "Perfection takes time, but Kyle should be here any—"

The door flies open at 8:00 PM sharp, as planned.

Kyle stumbles in, supported by Grayson. His disheveled appearance instantly transforms when he sees them both—shock replacing intoxication.

"Ladies," Grayson says smoothly, "sorry he's late. Pre-announcement jitters. I'm the best man, so I—"

Both women rush toward Kyle. Dorian quietly packs his supplies, humming "It Had to Be You" under his breath.

"Baby," Lenora coos, "I've had such a lovely chat with your sister."

"Sister?" Melody's voice rises. "I'm not his sister, I'm his fiancée!" She thrusts out her ring hand. "Look what he bought me at Tiffany's!"

"Fiancée?" Lenora's face hardens. "That's my ring. I paid for it!"

That's my cue. I grab my equipment and head for the door. Kyle lunges toward me—"YOU!"—but Grayson blocks him.

"Stay," Grayson orders Kyle softly. "We'll go."

The door clicks behind us just as Lenora shrieks, "You owe me fifty thousand dollars!"

"Hell no!" Melody's voice follows us down the hall. "I'm keeping my ring!"